THE JAW

He walked with his stick in his hand,
No crowds he saw,
He was mum and tight-lipped,
The old man sought to repair his Jaw.

To the iron smith he went,
Found hammers were too heavy to handle,
His tongue was not malleable,
His jaw was not metal.

The stone cutter he now approached,
But his weapons gave him a chill,
He clutched his jaw tighter,
To save it from the cutting drill.

The marble moulder was his next stop,
Since both whites struck a chord,
But the machine he found too big,
His jaw, alas! Was not so broad.

To the woodcutter and the farmer he went,
Seeking help for his despair,
They shook their heads in dismay,
His jaw they couldn’t repair.

Down on the ground he slumped,
He was left in his sorrows to pine,
For how was he now to savor,
His hot chicken and cold wine?

He lay there motionless,
Dreaming of salmon and roasted fish,
Pies and cakes floated in his eyes,
How was he to have his mutton dish?

Thinking of worlds exotic,
A heavy sigh he drew,
He had the tongue to taste,
But no jaw to chew!

Oh god! To where should he go,
Is all the joy from his life to be thus taken?
Oh! Will he never be able to relish,
His roast mushrooms and fried bacon?


He started walking slowly,
His mind torn while his heart bled,
He didn’t know where he was going,
But the aroma of food led him ahead.

He reached a thatched shack,
Jaw in his hand and stomach empty,
He saw freshly baked jam tarts,
And chicken roasting in plenty.

A slight gleam flickered in his eye,
But disappeared when he picked up the knife,
He sat there sobbing,
And told the cook about his strife.

Oh! So that’s the matter old man,
The cook said as he gathered his cutleries,
He rapidly built a new jaw,
Joining forks with oil and grease.

The old man looked in awe,
As his jaw was being assembled,
He fell at cook’s feet,
As with happiness he trembled.

The cook smiled and set the table,
And they both ate with utter delight,
How true it is that only a connoisseur,
Can understand a fellow’s plight…